


Oceanic Eyes, a Radiant Smile, and a Solar Halo

by cactustipper



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Female Marc | Morgan, Gay Chrobin - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Male My Unit | Reflet | Robin, One Shot, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, Reset au, Spoilers, Time Loop, alcohol (very briefly), gore mention (also very briefly), rating for swears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27238777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cactustipper/pseuds/cactustipper
Summary: Robin is stuck living through his life, cycling over and over. No one knows about the resets except him, and even worse, he doesn’t have the guts to confess his feelings to Chrom in a single iteration of his life.Eventually, he finds the key to stop resetting. But it could ruin everything he has with Chrom in the process.
Relationships: Chrom/My Unit | Reflet | Robin
Comments: 14
Kudos: 157





	Oceanic Eyes, a Radiant Smile, and a Solar Halo

**Author's Note:**

> this sat in my notes for a long time, haunting my thoughts each time i tried to write the ending. but finally, i got something down.
> 
> enjoy.

The first time was a fluke, really.

At least, Robin couldn’t recall any other lives spent with the Shepherds before that one. The first time, he very truly had no memories. His life began with the sight of Chrom’s ocean blue eyes (an odd comparison at the time, because he didn’t actually see the ocean until the second time), a radiant smile upon warm features, with the sun behind him acting as that angel of a man’s halo.

Robin learned the bare basics for his next several lives in the first one. He was the Shepherds’ tactician, as well as that he was inexplicably linked to Chrom from the very beginning, when despite it being his first time around, he had remembered the prince’s name before his own.

So what made it a fluke?

Well during Robin’s second real mission, the one to rescue Maribelle, Chrom took a wyvern’s claw to the chest protecting him. It had been quite gruesome; Robin clearly recalled seeing a sliver of the creature’s nails glinting from behind the prince’s shoulder, the tactician’s viewpoint having been about a foot in length from Chrom’s back.

There had been no time. Robin was occupied with a mage in his desperation to keep the isolated Ricken and Maribelle from death. As he dodged his enemy’s spell, a gust of wind from above sent the edges of his coat flying, and a draconic screech pierced his eardrums. Then there was a flash of blue and white, before time suddenly stopped. Chrom’s cape had curled around the front of his body, giving Robin the full view of blood spurting around a thin strip of ivory, painting his navy clothes black in a matter of seconds, before the prince ultimately collapsed.

That life then ended the same night when Robin hid from the rest of the world in his tent. He had seen death before, even caused by his own hands, but Chrom’s was real, _far too real_ ; the image of wyvern claws tearing the prince apart danced behind his eyelids each time he blinked. Robin only went to sleep that night, not because he wanted to, but because his body betrayed him.

What he awakened to was Chrom with his oceanic eyes, a radiant smile, and a solar halo, alive and standing over him, offering Robin his hand, with that joke about napping on the ground.

Needless to say, the tactician was utterly dumb with disbelief, but to the two royals and their knight, he most likely came off as dazed at being brought back into consciousness.

Writing off the first life as simply a very, _very_ realistic bad dream, he began his second reset.

* * *

This reset proved to be the _true_ basis for Robin’s life, seeing as he actually made it to the end this time.

The tactician got to fully develop his feelings for the prince that began brewing in his first life, even if it was rather unwillingly.

Emmeryn sacrificed herself. After Gangrel was slain, Chrom went on to confess his love for Sumia ( _slightly_ destroying Robin’s heart in the process, but his best friend deserved to be happy). Baby Lucina was born, and Marth revealed herself as adult Lucina. The Shepherds set the ocean ablaze, and found Robin’s future daughter Morgan, despite him never marrying. They met Say’ri and Tiki, then climbed a fire-oozing mountain of death and killed the former’s brother. Walhart was defeated, and the Shepherds sought to restore the Fire Emblem. Lucina pointed Falchion at Robin. Chrom saved him.

He nearly killed Chrom at the Dragon’s Table, and too soon after, was the Exalt burning alive in the flames of the Awakening.

Chrom made Robin promise not to land the final blow.

He did it anyway.

He disappeared.

Chrom’s oceanic eyes, a radiant smile, and a solar halo.

He began his third reset.

* * *

Robin was beginning to catch on to what was happening with his life now, as things proceeded in the same way that the first two times had. Perhaps there were a few different things here and there, a battle formation, someone breaking their hand instead of their foot, Robin having a conversation he hadn’t before and skipping out on another one, et cetera. 

His feelings for Chrom, however, never shifted, despite any variation in what exactly they said to one another. There were no changes in how warm it made Robin to have the prince’s attention, how genuine Chrom was with his compliments, and how happy his friend was in his company as well.

There were doubts in Robin’s mind that he was living his life over again, only if because of the sheer impossibility of it, but denial didn’t keep him from recognition. An admittedly guilty part of him was okay with it, if it meant getting to spend more time with Chrom—even if the prince wasn’t aware of all of their past time spent.

Unfortunately for them, though, something got lost in translation from the previous reset, and Panne never showed up on the night of the assassination attempt on Emmeryn.

Lucina was waiting for her, knowing the taguel was supposed to be there, and took steel to the thigh before the assassination attempt on the Exalt was no longer that: an attempt.

Robin woke up to oceanic eyes, a radiant smile, and a solar halo—or rather, reset number four.

* * *

If his first life was a fluke, then the fourth time was utter _shit_.

Chrom’s soul must have remembered his elder sister’s death where his brain didn’t, because he seemed particularly out of it when picking Robin up, and fought extra recklessly upon their arrival to the scene in Southtown. The tactician shared his unexplainable grief, but gods, Chrom was downright _sloppy_.

A ruffian’s sword was about to slice through the prince. There were times when Robin thought he was still standing behind Chrom and watching wyvern claws curl into his body, staining his navy tunic black. And well, if Robin was being honest, his life didn’t hold much weight—there’d likely be a reset regardless.

If not?

At least his death would be a short one, and the difficulty of his demise would be much less on Chrom due to them hardly knowing each other at this point.

He blocked the attack, and with a gruesome gurgling noise, the tactician’s esophagus was exposed to open air. The physical pain wouldn’t have changed his mind from protecting Chrom, but _dear Naga that fucking hurt._

Predictably, he didn’t live long, but the last expression on Chrom’s face was brutal to bear witness to, even though it only lasted as long as his final heartbeat.

Oceanic eyes, a radiant smile, and a solar halo.

* * *

Yep, Robin was back.

The fifth reset was when he finally had a chance to really think about his predicament.

It seemed what automatically triggered a do-over was the deaths of key people—but he wasn’t entirely sure who those people were.

He and Chrom were some of these key people for certain. Emmeryn dying before her sacrifice was also a reset. After all, Robin had awakened to oceanic eyes, a radiant smile, and a solar halo after each of their deaths.

Ricken was the first loss that wasn’t an automatic reset. Cordelia was the second, and Owain was the third. Perhaps someone needed to die to break the cycle—but who? How many lives would Robin have to live before he figured who it was? Assuming it was even necessary? What kind of a horrendous world did he live in if he was being forced to play life and death with his friends? As if their lives only held meaning as various numbers on a lock’s combination?

This reset, though, had already been proving even stranger before those deaths, because Chrom was acting off script.

The hierarch had just sold their entourage out to Plegia on their trip to Ylisse’s eastern palace, where Emmeryn was supposed to hide in safety. The prince hadn’t been shocked this time, but instead just closed his eyes and shook his head, muttering to himself something that Robin couldn’t quite catch. The battle was starting up, however, so he was forced to ignore the behavior, and guide everyone to victory.

Afterwards, Cordelia explained what happened to the pegasus knights as per usual, then Emmeryn declared, “I must go back to the capital.”

Phila opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, Chrom cut in.

“ _No._ ”

Robin had to physically keep himself from lifting an eyebrow.

“I should never have left,” Emmeryn said, a sad smile on her face. “If it’s discovered I’m away when this news comes to light... The people could panic. Riot. More Ylisseans could needlessly die.”

She turned to Chrom, reaching into her robes for what Robin knew was going to be the Fire Emblem, but the prince once again stopped her, holding his hand out.

“Emm, _no_ ,” he said sternly, but having known him for years, the tactician knew Chrom was fighting to keep the pain from his tone. “I know what you’re going to say, but you’re not splitting off from us to return to Ylisstol.”

“Chrom...”

“No! If you really must go back, then the Shepherds are escorting you, and Phila can take the pegasus knights to Ferox.”

Robin wasn’t sure where this was coming from, maybe it was simply Chrom fighting harder this time. It wasn’t as if he could’ve truly known what was to happen.

Emmeryn shook her head softly. “You know we can’t do that.”

“Then let me go with you!” the prince pushed, his voice tight. It hurt to see him like this, unknowingly fighting so hard against his sister’s fate. “Frederick and Robin can take care of the Shepherds, they’re good and capable men—”

“Enough Chrom,” the Exalt said, raising a hand. “I’m sorry to leave you, but this is what must be done. Take the Fire Emblem to safety. Phila will accompany me to Ylisstol. I’ll be alright.”

Chrom appeared to want to say more, but Emmeryn was turning to say goodbye to Frederick and Lissa with finality, while Phila was ordering Cordelia to remain with the Shepherds.

Only Robin could have possibly caught it when the prince murmured.

“You don’t understand...”

On the way to Regna Ferox, Chrom was moodier than he had been in the other reset at this point.

Robin didn’t have the heart to try and convince him that Emmeryn would be fine, when he knew that in fact she wouldn’t be.

News of the Exalt’s capture awaited at Regna Ferox, and Robin was put to work immediately on their rescue strategy.

While focusing quietly in his room, a knock sounded on his door.

“Come in,” Robin called distractedly, remembering the Risen archers that had destroyed his last rescue plan with a shudder.

It was Chrom who had walked in, and he set a hand on the tactician’s desk, silently requesting his attention.

He lifted his head. “Yes?”

“Still drafting a strategy?” Chrom asked.

He hid his surprise that the prince’s tone was so even. He had expected him to either be taking his frustrations out on training dummies, or spending time alone to grieve in his room, while Robin would be able to work in peace on his plan.

“Getting there,” Robin replied, looking down at the map again. He couldn’t quite figure out what he wanted to do, truthfully. He could try to redraft his plan into getting Emmeryn to safety this time, but it could cause a potential reset. And really, even if he wanted to, he couldn’t see a way to safely get rid of—

“They’ll have archers,” Chrom said. Robin looked up at him quickly, but the prince’s eyes were on his map of the Plegian castle. “Waiting to ambush Emm, in case something happens to the executioner.”

_How do you know that?_ he thought, nearly questioning him aloud.

Instead, Robin said, “What makes you so sure? The Plegian army is known for magic when it comes to ranged units, so I’d assume—”

“It was how they took down my father. Besides, Emm’s resistance to magic is too high,” Chrom supplied cooly. “Why would they fix a strategy that isn’t broken?”

_Is... is he lying?_ the tactician wondered bewilderedly. When it came to the prince, he usually was able to tell, but now he wasn’t so sure. Was there anything else suspicious Chrom had been doing this reset? Robin wracked his brain, digging for something, anything—

Chrom swapped his focus to him, and Robin realized he was awaiting some sort of confirmation... or something. He wasn’t certain anymore, with how surreal this was.

“...I’ll... take it into consideration.”

That seemed to satisfy the prince, or enough, at least.

“Good. I look forward to seeing what you come up with.”

And like that, he left, leaving Robin inwardly scrambling on what to make of it all.

In the end, it hadn’t mattered what the tactician edited in his plans. Their battle in the Plegia castle’s courtyard ended with wyvern knights instead, too many of them to avoid Emmeryn sacrificing herself.

Chrom, again, was particularly grief-stricken, and despite having known fate was simply cruel, Robin still blamed himself.

After spending time in the prince’s tent comforting him, to the point that he wasn’t crying anymore, Robin tried to apologize. Perhaps it was selfish when Chrom was the true victim of the two of them, but he couldn’t help it. He had really thought there was a chance of saving Emmeryn this time.

“I’m... so sorry...” he said, his voice cracking and sounding as lost as he felt. “Everything I did... and it still wasn’t enough.”

“...It’s okay, Robin,” Chrom sighed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders tightly. “I think... I think it was her time, regardless.”

This must have been his soul surrendering, because the archers weren’t brought up in any of the resets that followed.

Another strange thing this reset, was there was a conversation Chrom had with him the night before their final battle of the Ylissean-Plegian war. And like the warning of Risen archers, it never happened again.

“Robin... are you awake?”

The tactician, for once, had been making himself go to sleep on time. He needed to gather what rest he could before facing Gangrel. He was just ready to put out his lantern, until he heard the prince’s voice beyond his tent flap.

Chrom wasn’t one to lose his nerves, but with how fragile he was after his sister’s murder, despite every attempt to divert it, Robin wouldn’t be surprised. Why else would the other man be there?

“Yes, come in.”

Chrom lifted the tent’s flap and ducked underneath, letting it fall behind him. His eyebrows lifted at seeing the tactician in his nightclothes.

“I didn’t realize you were ready to sleep,” he said. His tone hinted at the unspoken question of, ‘Should I leave?’

Robin shook his head and sat up, bringing up his legs and crossing them on his cot. He patted the space beside him. The prince took the offer gratefully, walking over and sitting down as well.

“Something on your mind?” the tactician asked.

“I...” Chrom stared back at him blankly, then looked away. “Give me a moment.”

“Of course.”

Going off of the second reset, Robin expected he was here to admit his trepidation about tomorrow. And who wasn’t nervous? Especially when this was the very thing your recently murdered sister had worked to avoid.

But then Chrom spoke again, and it seemed he was going in another direction with his thoughts.

“I want to speak to you about something.”

“We’re speaking right now, yes?” he half-joked, masking his curiosity.

The prince smiled slightly, nowhere near reaching his eyes.

“Yes, I suppose we are. I was thinking about what would happen after the war.”

Robin lifted an eyebrow, thoroughly intrigued now. “You’ll be coronated, right?”

Chrom nodded. “Yes... I’ll be expected to marry and subsequently sire an heir.”

“Understandably.”

Not just Chrom, but nearly everyone in Ylisse was taking the loss of Emmeryn hard. A grand wedding and a future Exalt would be just the thing to bring the country out of a devastating war. And though it pained Robin’s heart deeply, Lucina _had_ to be born.

This response caught the prince off guard. “You... _agree?_ ”

_No, not at all, but your daughter is a ‘key person,’_ Robin thought.

Aloud, he said, “Not that you should be pushed into anything, but that it makes sense why it’s expected of you. It’ll help Ylisse to start over.”

He hated how it sounded, but this was what the future was meant to be.

Chrom scowled slightly, clearly not having wanted that answer.

“My _duty_ , right... Despite the fact there’s still one royal family member left, and the previous Exalt was older than me, and yet remained unwed.”

“Surely you realize how that’s different,” he argued.

Gods, Robin was being a horrible friend right now, but it wasn’t his own choice.

“Frankly, I don’t care.”

Damn, he _really_ didn’t want to marry Sumia. The tactician ignored the part of that thought that filled his heart with misguided hope.

“I’m sorry Chrom. It’s difficult and perhaps unfair, but I don’t think there’s much to be done about it.”

Betrayal was written on the prince’s face, and Robin immediately wanted to take it all back.

“No, I’m sorry that I expected this from Frederick, not from _you_.”

Chrom stood up from the cot and headed towards the flap of the tent. Not looking back, and with coldness creeping on the edge of his tone, he said, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good _night_.”

Robin restrained himself from calling after the prince. He knew it was a dick move, he knew it wasn’t what Chrom wanted to hear, but it was what had to be done. He was sure to be upset for awhile, and while it didn’t feel good for the tactician, his friend would get over it eventually. Maybe the space would even help Robin get over his lovesickness.

_ I’m sorry. _

He was sure things were back on track for this reset, now. What Robin _also_ hadn’t accounted for was Chrom marrying someone other than Sumia—Olivia.

There was no reset to be had, so perhaps it was alright, as the same Lucina ended up being born, aside from a few minor differences in facial features and her hair being closer to a dull indigo rather than a desaturated blue. It was also particularly curly.

When Valm came around, Robin consulted with Tiki about the resets in private, unwilling to talk with the other Shepherds in the case that this was indeed the final reset, he wouldn’t be branded as insane by his peers. They wouldn’t believe him, anyway.

The dragon confirmed knowing of the resets, but she herself had no memory of the previous lives, and doubted the other humans were even aware anything was off whatsoever. Naga later said the same thing to him when Robin asked her, away from the others—she wasn’t truly an omniscient goddess, only a greatly powerful dragon praised as one.

So Robin was completely on his own on in figuring out how to break the cycle. _Great._

When the time came to sacrifice himself on the back of the Fell Dragon, Chrom surprised Robin in attempting a head start to their foe, but it still ended with the tactician landing the final blow.

Robin disappeared, then woke up to oceanic eyes, a radiant smile, and a solar halo.

* * *

Reset number six, Chrom married Sully, not attempting to warn Robin of Risen archers, or that awkward conversation on his marriage again. And yet, it still didn’t make the wedding hurt any less.

Casualties were Miriel, Stahl, Donnel, and Noire.

Chrom called Robin out on his false promise of allowing the prince to slay Grima this time. Heated words ensued, ending in bittersweet apologies, and a heavy reminder of how much the tactician would be paining the Exalt by doing what he had to.

Chrom tried once again to out-speed him, but Robin sacrificed himself and disappeared.

Oceanic eyes, a radiant smile, and a solar halo.

* * *

Seventh reset, Chrom married Maribelle. It almost felt insulting; wasn’t Lissa all the noblewoman truly wanted?

They lost Gaius and Lon’qu that round.

It took three failures, but Robin was ready to allow Chrom to try their last battle his way. If it meant breaking the cycle of resets, then the tactician would just have to live with that.

The Exalt even glanced back over his shoulder as he raised his sword to fell the Fell Dragon, seeming surprised his friend wasn’t attempting to swoop in and steal the kill.

Robin didn’t disappear after the battle was over, and he went to sleep that night, wondering if the morning would allow him to exist on in his seventh life or not.

It didn’t.

Upon waking up, he was greeted with oceanic eyes, a radiant smile, and a solar halo.

* * *

Added up, Robin had lived variations of the same life for about eighteen years, four months, and twenty two days and a half—if his math was correct.

By this point, his lovesickness wasn’t as painful as it had been in the beginning, but remained a dull ache in the back of his mind most days. Occasionally, it grew sharper than Lon’qu’s killing edge, but other than that, his feelings were manageable.

As per usual reset, Chrom made his napping on the ground joke, Robin feigned amnesia (which was only slightly true by this point), and thus began his journey with the Shepherds.

After defeating the Plegian brigands in Southtown and setting up camp for the night along the road to Ylisstol, the tactician laid in the grass and pretended to sleep, until Chrom and Lissa left as they always did that night. Once the royal pair was gone, he rolled on his back, supporting his head with his arms as he stared into the forest’s canopy above.

Robin couldn’t for the love of Naga figure it out. He assumed there was a way to break this cycle—gods, he _hoped_ so—but nothing was working. There were too many variables, and while he was used to it all, it was tiring. So. Very. Tiring. He _hated_ watching his friends die. He _hated_ Chrom’s marriages, he _hated_ Lucina’s suspicions, he _hated_ the haunted look that would overtake Morgan’s face, he _hated_ stealing the Fire Emblem, he _hated_ nearly killing Chrom, he _hated_ the Awakening, and _by gods, he hated lying to Chrom in the days before the battle with Grima._

He didn’t lie the last time, at least. He truly let the prince land the final blow.

But it still didn’t matter.

Robin was both relieved and disappointed with the fact it wasn’t the key to breaking the cycle. It was fantastic that he would be able to rid the world of Grima, and didn’t have to give up him sacrificing himself in order to allow time to move on. What disappointed him, however, was that if it had been the answer, he wouldn’t get to live the rest of his days in a peaceful world with Chrom.

Although, in a way, that was one more thing he hated: having the feelings he did for his best friend, and never being able to reveal them. After all, what if the reset Robin confessed in turned out to be the final reset, and he ended up ruining everything between him and Chrom?

The tactician could sit on his feelings longer— _forever_ , if necessary; it wasn’t like even if the prince miraculously returned his love, that their relationship could ever be sustainable. It was difficult, so very difficult, however, reliving his life and being reminded of all of the things that had him falling for Chrom in the first place. Truly both a blessing and a curse, if there ever were such a thing.

The rumble of the Earth was what dragged Robin from his thoughts; that was his cue. Double-checking that his sword and his tome were on his person, he stood up just as Frederick did, mentally preparing himself to deal with Risen.

Things continued on as normal as they could, for both Robin and the life he was designated to each reset. No one amongst the Shepherds had fallen yet; each loss had been hard enough on the tactician, and he’d be damned if he allowed another one of his friends to die from stupid rogue elements in that reset—that he was supposed to be planning for anyway.

No more trying to figure out if his friend’s deaths were necessary, like the combination of numbers on a lock. He’d instead take a hammer to that lock, and maybe the whole damn vault if he had to.

Chrom seeked him out more often than before—if that was even possible with how much time the prince already dedicated to spending with his tactician in previous lives. It was as if he had renewed his resolve, and warmed to Robin a little faster this time, and paid a little more attention to his soldiers this time, and cried a little less after Emmeryn this time.

Robin had originally written off anyone else remembering the resets as impossible, but the more he interacted with his friend, the more he pondered the idea. There had been the one reset where he warned of Risen archers and had that pre-marriage talk with him...

Still, he didn’t want the prince thinking he was crazy if this life happened to be the final reset... logically, the tactician knew it was unlikely at best, but fear kept him from saying anything on it.

“Robin?”

He blinked the blurriness of sleep away, but didn’t need to be able to see to know it was Chrom at the entrance of the healer’s tent. Robin was the only one left in there—anyone else was fixed up enough to sleep in their own tents, or... well, dead.

“Yes?”

Dimly, he was slightly embarrassed at the bareness of his torso, but any normal clothes left him too hot, and medical gowns were an unnecessary luxury during travel. Sure, he had a blanket, but a mild fever was keeping him from pulling it up all the way.

“Do you have a moment?”

Robin had been there in the other resets, too; the prince was always particularly bloodthirsty in this battle, with the freshness of Emmeryn’s death providing fuel for his rage. Robin took what could have otherwise been a lethal hit for Chrom. And how could he not? The recollection of wyvern claws and a once navy tunic turned black was simply extra motivation. The nice thing about taking the hit from was that he didn’t have to restart his life again.

“Plenty of them, seeing as I’m still in here.”

The prince grimaced. Maybe the half-joke was a little too soon, but Robin couldn’t help it. He reverted to dryness when he wasn’t thinking.

“Sorry.”

Chrom only shook his head as if to say, ‘It’s fine,’ walking over and dragging a stool to sit next to Robin’s cot.

“How are you feeling?”

It was the same as the other times—struck by lightning from Gangrel’s sword.

“Getting there... My head aches a bit, and my stomach feels like there’s a huge knot in it,” Robin admitted, something he may have been more inclined to avoid in the past. “But I’ll be alright.”

The prince still frowned, but didn’t prod further. Dimly, the tactician noted his ring finger was still bare; had he not confessed to anyone yet? Chrom always had by this point, aside from the reset where he married Olivia.

“I’m sorry, Robin,” he suddenly blurted out, a little too loudly.

Robin heard this speech last time, too, but still gave his friend a feigned curious look, prompting him.

Lowering his voice, Chrom continued, “In that battle... Gods, I was just so— _angry_.” His expression was haunted, as it had been for the past week since the prior Exalt’s doom. Regardless, he was taking her death much better than he had in the other lives. “It—it was like Emm was still up there, like if I was fast enough and fought hard enough, that I could still reach her.”

Robin nodded. “No one could blame you for that. I’m sure the majority of them felt the same way.”

“That’s no reason for me to have put your life in danger.”

“Your life will always takes priority over mine.”

No matter how many times the prince refuted it in past lives, it was never any less true. He understood that his friend only wanted to reassure, but even if Robin _hadn’t_ believed Chrom was most important with every fiber of his being, it was a simple statement of fact. Nothing more, nothing less.

“I wish you’d quit saying that,” Chrom sighed, half to himself.

That was an... odd thing for Chrom to say. Had Robin mentioned it previously in this reset? Perhaps he was just imagining it.

“I don’t say it to demean myself,” he said, ignoring how his heart beat faster at that silly train of thought. “I’m only being candid.”

The prince paused, staring at him.  Then he eventually murmured, “You’ve done so much... not just for me, but for _everyone_ —my family, the Shepherds, Ylisse, Plegia... I never would’ve put an end to this without you.” He shook his head, and let out a weak laugh. “Or at least, won so fast and with our army so intact. Gods, Robin, this wasn’t even your war! And here I am, indebted to you in a way I can never properly repay.”

The tactician had heard this all before, several times over, but he could never escape the heat that burned his face whenever Chrom said things like that.

Hoping it was dark enough in the tent (despite the lantern lit beside his cot) to dull the brunt of his blush, he said, “I’ve only lent you the same hand you’ve lent me. My life could’ve been much lesser had you not found me and gave me purpose.”

_Naga_ , it sounded cheesy out loud, but alas, that was what the prince did to him.

“Still... I know how stressful the job has been,” Chrom offered a weak smile. “Simply put, I’m very grateful to have you in my life.”

If he didn’t know the man better, Robin wouldn’t be able to believe the prince was entirely unaware of what he was doing to him.

“I’m grateful for you, too, Chrom.”

It truly was a shame that his coronation was right around the corner, and by extension, his wedding. Which reminded him...

“So after this... you’re really the new Exalt, huh?”

“Yes, unfortunately.”

Unfortunately for the both of them, indeed.

“And that means a fantastical wedding following your coronation?”

Robin hated how out of nowhere it was, it sent a knife through his heart just thinking about it, but he simply wanted to get it out of the way. The two men were close enough where it wouldn’t be too terribly offensive. Even if it _had_ been, Chrom wouldn’t stay mad at him.

And well, part of him was curious who his friend would pick to wed this time.

The prince predictably paused, rosiness tinting his cheeks.

“...I guess I didn’t realize you knew about that,” he mumbled, suddenly very interested in the fabric of his pant leg.

The tactician nodded. “As per traditional coronation, if I’ve interpreted Ylissean law correctly. If you’re nervous... well Chrom, any woman would be incredibly lucky to have someone like you.” And he wasn’t exaggerating—if anything, it was a hideous understatement of the truth. “Surely you have _someone_ in mind,” he said lightly, trying to sound teasing and not as if he despised every second they talked about this.

“...I don’t.” Then to Robin’s surprise, Chrom lifted his head met his gaze steadily. “And I don’t plan on it, either.”

As skilled as the tactician was at keeping composure, especially with how much time he had to practice, he couldn’t contain the shocked, “ _What?_ ” that slipped out of him.

This... wasn’t supposed to happen. Chrom was _supposed_ to propose after the battle, and if he didn’t, he was still _supposed_ to have his eyes on someone at that point. Besides the Ylissean council’s demands, it was vital that Lucina be born during their two years of peace. If not, Robin would likely have to go onto reset number nine early. Chrom had never outright denied marriage before, even in that unique conversation he and Robin had in the reset he married Olivia.

“I don’t plan on getting married,” the prince repeated, lacking any trace of hesitance.

“B-but, the council,” Robin stuttered, trying to reign himself in. It had caught him completely off guard—where was this coming from? There had been seven resets before this, and he was just _now_ saying this? What changed?

“Spare me the lecture,” Chrom scowled, an ill-fitting yet still oh-so-handsome look for the lord. “Frederick has pestered me about it for some time, now. I know he means well—both of you, for that matter—but I won’t make myself marry someone I don’t truly love.”

Robin opened his mouth to retort, but was stopped by his friend taking on a strange expression, Chrom’s eyes looking everywhere but at Robin’s.

“This is going to sound odd, but I’ve had these... _dreams_. Where I keep... making the wrong choices, I suppose.”

By now, the tactician regained himself. “Wrong... choices?”

Another impromptu conversation, he dimly noted.

“Yes. Where... where I’ve buried my true feelings on the matter, and done what seemed to make the most sense at the time. In some cases, trying to change a battle strategy, in some cases marriage.” The prince glanced at him. “I’d marry for the sake of it, convincing myself maybe I’d fall in love over the course of it, but I would end up wrong. I was friends with whoever it was, and loved them as such, but never as something... _more_.”

_Did... did you not love them? In the other resets?_ Robin thought, his heart racing. _And... a battle strategy? Like archers?_

“That doesn’t seem all that strange to me,” he said aloud.

Chrom shook his head. “Maybe not, but... the thing is, I would...” He blinked a few times, seemingly struggling with what he was about to say. “I would be put back in the same position, and I’d choose differently, but it still wouldn’t work. And not only for matrimony, but for other things, too. Believe me, I realize it sounds like a dumb reason to avoid the matter altogether, but it’s my reason nonetheless. You won’t change my mind.”

But changing Chrom’s mind wasn’t what Robin was stuck on now.

What he was stuck on was that there was _no way_.

_ There was no fucking way. _

There was another explanation, like recurring dreams—Chrom said they were _dreams_ —or something. There was no _possible_ way that...

No, this was _stupid_ , but Robin had to try.

“Chrom...” he began slowly, fighting to control his tone. His heart was pounding painfully in his chest, bringing further attention to the throbbing of his wounds. But he couldn’t care less about that right now. “Who were the women you’d marry?”

The prince gave a wary look that implied he’d try to dodge the truth, so Robin added, “I won’t say anything. You know I won’t. _Please_.”

“…First Sumia, next Olivia, then Sully—”

He couldn’t contain himself. “—And finally Maribelle?”

Chrom completely stopped at that, blue eyes rounder than the tactician had ever seen them.

“And, and,” Robin continued, leaning forward, “the first time, that wyvern, you shielded me, and its claws were poking through your back, and your tunic turned black—from. From the _blood_.”

“You...”

Gods, he really couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, this was bad.

“The second time, you married Sumia and I promised you I wouldn’t end it, but gods, I betrayed your trust, and _I_ did it, and then something went wrong and I got your sister killed, but Panne never showed up, and then you almost got killed _again_ , but I couldn’t... _the wyvern, gods, the wyvern_...”

If Chrom knew, he would know by now, and further explanation was entirely unnecessary, but it poured out of Robin and he couldn’t shut it off, “I couldn’t watch you _die_ again, so I blocked the sword for you, and then you _tried_ to tell me, didn’t you? With the archers and before you married Olivia—”

“—Robin—”

“—and I let Ricken, Cordelia, Owain... Then you married Sully which was the only one that actually made _any_ sense, and Miriel, Stahl, Donnel, and Noire all died, then there was Maribelle and then Lon’qu and Gaius, and you called my _lie_ —!”

“— _Robin!_ “

He froze, finally registering Chrom’s callused hands from years of swordsmanship that were firmly holding his curling shoulders. Robin was hyperventilating, and a trickle of sweat rolled down his face alongside tears he hadn’t noticed. The main wound on his side had reopened from him unwittingly sitting up during his rant, fresh blood painting the bandages on his abdomen.

He slowly lied back down with coaxing from Chrom, who counted aloud for Robin to realign his breathing with. Once his heart began to settle, his friend moved to gather medical supplies already present in the tent, before removing the covering on Robin’s side. He began to clean the raw skin and apply fresh medicine, before finally redressing it.

The tactician silently watched him work, his mind utterly blank despite the revelation of not being alone in the world of resets. He only focused on the prince’s face. His brow was lightly knitted, with his eyes somewhat lidded from looking down. Robin followed the curve of his dark eyelashes, glinted with the faintest of blues even with the little light the lantern provided. Chrom’s irises, ringed with a deep night blue and filled with a contrasting true blue, would flick a little, between his own hands and Robin’s body. His jaw was set somewhat, and his lips were thinned slightly, different from his resting expression.

All too soon, Chrom leaned back, fingers lingering for a moment at the edge of the new bandage before he withdrew them. Robin’s skin ached at the loss, and he tried not to feel too disappointed.

After all... he wasn’t alone in this hell anymore.

A few minutes of silence passed.

“...We’ve been at this for years,” Robin said finally. He stared at nothing, not perceiving a single thing his eyes saw. “No one else remembers, but we’ve... this whole time.” He shook his head; he still couldn’t believe it. “ _This whole time_.”

“This is the eighth, right?” Chrom asked. “I mean, you didn’t have any loops before this?”

“Yes, but...”

It wasn’t the time for it at all, but with the relief that washed everything else away (even if only temporarily), he couldn’t help the small smile that rose to his lips. “‘Loops’?”

His friend grinned too, something he hadn’t seen genuinely for the past week. “What have you been calling them?”

“Resets.” Robin paused. “ _‘Loops’?_ ”

“What? What’s wrong with my name for it?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all wrong with _loops_.”

“Whatever. They’re loops.”

But they still chuckled with one another. And it soon devolved into laughing, then to full-on cracking up, Robin squeaking out, “ _‘Loops’?_ “ even as his worn-out body ached at the further strain. Everything that had built up in that never-ending cycle, from anger to calmness to sadness to joy to fear, was let out on that stupid, _stupid_ name, because for the first time in years, he could breathe again, even if he couldn’t literally from how hard he laughed.

Because he wasn’t alone. Because Chrom was with him, and therefore, it’d all be okay.

If he were trapped here for eternity, in the resets, the loops, Chrom was with him, and that was more than enough.

“Here’s one.”

Chrom looked up from across the table, placing the paper he was currently reading back on the surface. Robin turned his own paper around in his hands for the Exalt to see.

“Clarisse Rosenberg,” Robin introduced. “She’s at the prime age of twenty-three, the perfect time to give birth with a high chance of survival for both mother and child. Her parents own an orphanage and she has eleven younger siblings—they could likely use the money.”

“Add her to the ‘Meet in Person’ pile,” Chrom said.

The tactician gave a nod before digging out a folder from underneath the applications scattered across the desk, then carefully tucked Clarisse’s into one of its pockets. He randomly selected another application to begin reading, but he hadn’t gotten past the name before Chrom spoke again.

“Hey, Robin?”

“Yes?” he asked, still skimming the sheet.

“I know this needs to be done, but... well, gods, what will Lucina think?”

Then the Exalt revised, “...Er, _does_ think, rather.”

Robin paused. He set down the application and lifted his eyes to Chrom’s, where anxiety swam in blue. He hadn’t seen that particular look since Emmeryn’s capture, eight months ago. He supposed that was a good thing, in a way.

“How do you mean?”

“She isn’t being born out of love, but out of _politics_.” Chrom frowned. “Of course, I know her and I love her _now_ , but that’s because of—y’know.”

“Well, I was born the same way,” Robin said, cracking a smile. “The difference is that you still become a loving father. It’s not as if your future self was totally distant.”

“But her meeting the past me... won’t she question me?” The Exalt carded a hand through his hair. “That I’ve only had her because I have to?”

Robin reached across the table to place what he hoped came off as a supportive hand on top of Chrom’s free one. He’d be lying if he claimed he didn’t get anything out of the simple touch himself. If it were one of his first resets, he wouldn’t have dared to touch Chrom so casually, but his friend so often did the same, it couldn’t have been anything but welcome.

“She understands duty better than anyone, Chrom,” he said, squeezing lightly. “And I’ll bet she’d rather it’s just you and not with a woman you don’t love.”

Chrom twisted his hand underneath Robin’s, curling his fingers around his palm and bringing his other hand to clasp over the tactician’s. It was a small gesture, but it had him blushing nonetheless. Maybe he should’ve pulled away—it was a little _too_ intimate—but Chrom’s lips held a slight smile directed at him, and that was reason enough not to.

Until the door to the Exalt’s personal study was knocked on, and Robin snatched his hand back. Chrom gave a sympathetic look and called for whoever it was to come in. A servant poked his head in, reminding Chrom of the audience between him and any common folk in an hour. It was a weekly event open to the public, where they could meet with the Exalt in-person and discuss any disputes or troubles they might have.

Chrom dismissed the servant before excusing himself as well; he’d have to eat and get dressed. Preparing wouldn’t take a full hour, it never did, but better sooner rather than later without any time to spare.

“You’d best take a break, too,” Chrom said, his hand resting on the doorknob.

“We need to get through applications, and there’s still five boxes to go through,” Robin argued. He had sat back down and continued reading through the paper he had been disrupted from. “We’ve hardly scratched the surface of this whole business, seeing as we have to meet candidates still and get to know the ‘finalists.’”

“We have time. Besides Miriel and Tharja not having found a reliable spell yet, we have at least... what, twenty-three months left until Valm? That’s about thirteen months to figure things out,” Chrom said with a smile. “A break won’t reset this loop.”

“You’ll upset the chefs if your food goes cold again,” Robin shot back teasingly. “I’ll be fine.”

The Exalt shook his head in mock exasperation before leaving. If he had stuck his tongue out, he would’ve looked just like Lissa. And despite how much he had mentally aged, Chrom likely would have scoffed like the young man he physically was at the comparison.

Things had gone smoother than Robin predicted they would with the end of the Ylissean-Plegian war. After mandatory peace talks and treaties and other business between the countries involved (despite the loads of bullshit they were, knowing Validar was in charge), ever true to his word, Chrom had opposed the council’s demand that he marry, instead striking a compromise to sire an heir within the next two years. It was Robin that drove the bargain home; Ylisse’s approval for their new Exalt was through the roof, and having another heir in line was what was most important. What could they do if Chrom didn’t agree anyway? They weren’t about to crown Lissa with no brand, and no one else had Naga’s blood (aside from ‘Marth,’ which was a secret and wouldn’t work for a plethora of reasons otherwise).

Ylisse was five months into peace time, and two months into looking for a surrogate mother for Lucina, while both Miriel and Tharja worked on a spell to allow that mother to carry the baby with Chrom’s genes so that the Exalt wouldn’t need to do... _that_ with a foreign woman (much to Robin’s relief).

While Chrom had his duties as Exalt and Robin had his own as his head advisor, the tactician couldn’t be happier to be spending so much time at his dearest friend’s side. Maybe it wasn’t always the best medicine for the love he held for Chrom that never loosened its grip, but distance hadn’t helped in the past either. He’d cherish their time together regardless.

“Around twenty years later and you still have chicken scratch,” Chrom commented upon taking the document from Robin. “At least this is legible, unlike your tactical notes.”

“Not everyone takes handwriting classes at age _seven_ ,” the tactician muttered, rolling his eyes. “I’d rather write quickly than—”

Urgent knocking from outside the study cut him off.

“Pardon my intrusion, Exalt Chrom!” a cleric said through the door. “Lady Clarisse is going into labor!”

Robin and Chrom shared an astonished expression, before both running simultaneously out of the study. They followed the cleric through the castle to the wing containing the infirmary. The walls did little to conceal Clarisse’s moans of pain, as the three could hear them all the way down the hall.

While neither man had anything resembling non-platonic relations with her, ever since Clarisse Rosenberg was chosen to mother Lucina, they had become good friends with her, and were ready to stand at her side while the Halidom’s new princess was born.

After hours upon hours, long after the sun had gone down, Lucina was finally delivered.

Robin remained at Chrom’s side the entire time. Lucina let out a wail as Lissa triple-checked that she was healthy, before she was passed to Chrom, who was hardly holding back the tears that welled in his eyes. The baby paused in her fit at the change of position, then promptly continued crying. He chuckled softly, cradling her and cooing at her until her weeping quieted.

The Exalt spoke lowly so that only Robin could hear, as Lissa was still in the room tending to a barely conscious Clarisse.

“You know, not once has this part ever gotten old,” he said, his gaze on Lucina’s resting face.

He then looked at Robin, his eyes shining.

“I’m glad you were in the room the moment she was born this time.”

In the past resets, the tactician had spent this moment in the hallway with the other Shepherds, eagerly awaiting the good news. It had always been Chrom, his wife, and Lissa otherwise—this reset was the first that Robin had witnessed it in-person.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. It wasn’t often he was at a total loss for words, but the awe he felt at how beautiful the newborn baby was had successfully taken them from him.

“Would you like to hold her?”

Robin hesitated, then nodded dumbly, careful not to disturb Lucina as he received her from his friend. She blinked lazily at him, a content look on her face. A wave of raw emotion crested inside him, resulting in his own tearing up. It overwhelmed him, the love he felt for the child. The feeling teetered on the kind of love only a parent could resonate with. And while part of Robin knew it was wrong because she wasn’t his—she was Chrom’s—he couldn’t bother caring right now.

Chrom’s arm wrapping around his shoulders drew him from his thoughts. He looked up at his friend, who stared back with what seemed to be pure adoration. He held a gentle smile, making Robin’s heart thump, slow and hard. He tentatively leaned into Chrom, testing the waters of what was acceptable. The Exalt’s arm only secured itself tighter, and the tactician allowed himself to be held by him. Robin gazed down at Lucina again and focused on the Brand of the Exalt in her left eye, love and devotion blossoming inside of him for both the child and her father in equal measure.

He knew it was all wrong, but gods, did it feel so right.

Weeks had passed since Lucina’s birth, the end of spring shifting into the warmth of summer. Ylissean summers were Robin’s favorite, likely having to do with the heat resembling Plegia’s. While many traumatic memories clung to the country like sand in clothing, the fondness he held for it regardless was likely rooted in the memories of being raised there that he had long since lost.

It was a shame he couldn’t enjoy this summer, knowing that General Raimi would be in Ylisstol any day now, bearing news of Valm bringing war to Feroxi shores.

Robin walked down the wing of the castle designated to royalty, admiring the white marble pillars, intricate tapestries, and green velvet rugs as he always did. He had agreed to spend time with Chrom and baby Lucina before they both had afternoon meetings. The two men were anxious to get as much time as they could with her before they had to leave home and campaign against Walhart.

As he approached the Exalt’s room, the tactician could hear voices coming through Chrom’s bedroom doors, one having been left slightly ajar. Robin paused upon hearing Lissa.

“I don’t get it. Why haven’t you said anything yet?” she was saying.

It was Chrom that replied.

“It sounds silly, but I promise that you can’t begin to understand how complicated it is.”

“But it’s literally obvious, and it has been for a long time. Why don’t you at least _try_ telling him?”

“I just... _can’t_ , alright?”

Robin rapped his knuckles on the doorframe, stopping the two’s conversation. Lissa opened one door all the way, shooting a smug look at her brother.

“Well if it isn’t Uncle Robin, visiting the Exalt’s private quarters for the _bajillionth time this week_ ,” she said with her hands on her hips, addressing Chrom more than she did the tactician. “I’ll leave you two to each other.”

She winked at Robin, before scooting past him and leaving for her own room, likely to wait for Maribelle’s eventual visit. The two had been spending an awful lot of time together as of late—he wouldn’t be shocked if the noblewoman were to move into the castle soon. He only lifted an eyebrow at Lissa as he shut the door behind him.

“ _‘Uncle Robin’_?” he asked Chrom. “What was that about?”

_ And this is definitely not the ‘bajillionth time this week.’ _

“Nothing,” his friend muttered, picking up Lucina from her bassinet. Was it just Robin, or were his cheeks slightly rosy? “Any idea when General Raimi’s supposed the show up?”

“My guess is tomorrow.”

Chrom let out a sigh as he cradled Lucina.

“I wish life would just stay like this. I’m not looking forward to roughing it out in the country.”

“You sound like Lissa. Didn’t you once say ‘hardship builds character’?” Robin laughed, walking over and smiling at the baby.

She turned her head towards him and opened and closed her mouth, her lips curved upwards in delight. It was no wonder that she always grew into a stunning woman with a father like Chrom.

His friend let out a small noise of amusement. “At least we’ll get to see the older Lucina again,” he said, ignoring his teasing. “Morgan, too.”

The tactician made an uncommitted hum. The future Lucina would be wary of him until she threatened to kill Robin and Chrom intervened. The future Morgan would receive those suspicions as well for carrying Robin’s blood, and she would doubt herself until the final battle.

Chrom gave him a sympathetic look.

“Thinking about what it’ll mean?”

Robin nodded.

“I’ll try to convince her to give you more of a chance without giving too much away.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey, Chrom?”

Lissa was back, calling to them from the hallway through the doors. “General Raimi’s here from Ferox.”

The Exalt let out a groan, causing the baby to gaze up curiously at her father.

“I was close; only a day late,” Robin said with a shrug. He offered his finger to Lucina, cooing at her, “Who wants to see Raimi?”

“Cut that out,” Chrom said faux-crossly, rolling his eyes. Robin then kissed Lucina on the forehead before leading the way out of the room.

‘Marth’ revealed herself as Lucina, only this time, Robin was there for the entire exchange between her and Chrom. He was beckoned by his friend to join their hug at the end, but waited until Lucina did as well so he knew his presence was welcome.

A few days passed as the Shepherds made their way to Feroxi ports and sailed across the ocean, leaving a literal trail of flames in their wake. Once touching Valmese soil and clearing out the soldiers waiting for them there and helping Say’ri, the army reserved rooms at a nearby inn. Chrom offered to room with Robin, but he declined, telling him to room with Lucina instead—she needed it more than he did.

_The things I do for that girl,_ he had thought to himself. _And she’ll still end up trying to stab me_.

The next day, as the Shepherds were splitting up for supplies, the Exalt’s daughter approached Robin.

“...Might I spend the day with you?” she asked shyly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Of course,” he said.

It surprised him how much she was warming up to him in this reset. Lucina had kept her distance in other lives, but always shared a grim understanding with Robin. Perhaps it was because the tactician played a larger role in raising her this time around.

Despite northern Valm having a similar climate as Regna Ferox, summer was still somewhat agreeable here. The snow that would return in the fall was nonexistent, and the temperature was cool but comfortable with the correct length of sleeves and pants. It was a good thing Chrom actually had coverage on his branded arm now.

As Robin and Lucina passed various shops and stalls, Robin could almost pretend they were simply sharing a nice, mild day together, rather than preparing for another grueling war in a foreign place. Chrom was very lucky to have such a loyal, dutiful daughter. They walked in comfortable silence for awhile, until Lucina eventually spoke.

“You and my father... you know more than you let on, don’t you?”

Robin stared at her, not having expected that whatsoever. Things had already been very different this reset upon learning Chrom had experienced the same thing, so it shouldn’t have surprised him that it branched beyond he and his friend. Once he recovered from his astonishment, he looked ahead again and simply nodded.

The princess glanced around, checking if anyone was paying them any mind. The coast was clear, so with a lowered voice, she asked, “How? Father told me you had amnesia in this time, but when you look at me... it’s like you already know what I’m here for.”

Robin hesitated, wondering how much of the resets he ought to reveal to Lucina. If anyone were to understand outside of him and Chrom, it’d be her.

“You’re here for Grima... for me,” he confirmed.

The evil his blood carried still put stress on him, from the pain of the headaches and nightmares in the present, to the pain he was destined to inflict on Chrom in the future, but it didn’t bother him as much anymore, not like it used to. He wouldn’t be _killing_ Chrom—that was good enough for him, with it being unavoidable and all.

She quirked her lip slightly, but kept her eyes forward.

“Why pursue what you have with my father, then?”

Choosing to ignore the underlying implications of that, he said, “Because we win. I originally asked myself the same thing when I didn’t know the ending. Aside from wanting to protect the family I had found in the Shepherds, it was mainly because I didn’t want to leave Chrom. And he wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

Her tone betrayed frustration when she responded.

“You don’t suppose your future self assumed the same thing? Look what became of him; why are you so sure you know this time will be different, despite following the same course?”

“You mean besides you being here, along with the other future children who will join us?” Robin gave her a smile. “That’s a conversation for Chrom to be apart of.”

Lucina glanced at him, seemingly trying to read him. After a moment or two, she sighed and stopped in her tracks.

“I want to believe you, truly I do. You’re... just as special to me as my father is. But please forgive me if I have a hard time with putting my faith in you, and if I can’t fully cast my doubts aside.”

He felt his features soften sympathetically.

“I understand.”

He wanted to retain the relationship they shared, but too much stood in the way at the moment, as long as she wasn’t aware of the truth regarding the resets. Robin would have to speak with Chrom on that later.

The princess frowned, closing her eyes and letting out a shaky breath. In the next heartbeat, she slammed herself into him and let out a quiet sob. The tactician hugged her back instantaneously, and despite her being slightly taller than him, he ran a hand soothingly through her hair (which he noted was the exact same shade as Chrom’s this time).

“I’m sorry,” she hiccupped, her words muffled by his shoulder. “I w-want more than—than anything t-to believe you.”

“I know, Lucina,” he murmured, fighting back his own tears. “There’s nothing for me to forgive.”

“I love you.”

That set them off.

“I love you, too.”

Lucina gaped at Robin and Chrom.

“You both... for twenty-one _years?_ ”

It was a few days since they had left town, headed for the Ruins of Time to find Morgan. The three of them were currently in Chrom’s tent, the two men standing and the woman sitting on the cot. They had all just finished eating dinner with the rest of the Shepherds. Some still sat around the campfire outside because of the nice weather, their speech and laughing easily piercing the fabric walls of the tent. Others, such as Robin, Chrom, and Lucina, had retired for the night.

Robin and Chrom agreed there was likely no harm in revealing their shared predicament to the latter’s daughter. If there was... well, at least they’d remember not to do it again in the next reset.

“We realize how incredible it is,” Chrom said, bringing a hand to the back of his neck. “We only found out we were both remembering the loops after we defeated Gangrel two years ago.”

The two men had only managed to prove it to Lucina with the knowledge they bore that should’ve been impossible.

“And you’re sure you’re the only ones who remember?”

“I’ve spoken to Lady Tiki and Naga on it. While they’re aware of the resets, they don’t carry over the memories of them like the two of us do,” Robin explained. “My guess is Nowi and Grima may have the same awareness, as they’re both dragons, but we haven’t encountered anyone else that arose suspicion.”

“So you’ve defeated Grima multiple times, trying both you, Robin, ending him for good, and you, Father, sealing him for a thousand years, and this still keeps happening?”

When the princess put it like that, it made Robin worried. He felt some of the color drain from his face.

“What is it?” Chrom prompted him.

_No, I can’t say that_ , he thought, swallowing. What he really wanted to say was that it was possible Grima might have to win for the resets to end, perhaps that Robin would have to become the Fell Dragon. There was no way he could ever tell Chrom, and he knew that if he ever proceeded with that plan, it would smash the Exalt’s heart more than sacrificing himself ever could. It was one thing he may never truly recover from.

“Ah... dizzy spell,” Robin mended quickly.

Chrom lifted an eyebrow, not entirely convinced.

“Do you need a moment?” Lucina asked. Interestingly, she didn’t seem suspicious. Perhaps he truly had earned her trust this time around.

“No, I’ll be alright. We can keep going.”

“Okay... well, what are the differences in the timelines that still led to defeating Grima in the endgame?” the princess continued on. “Is there something you haven’t tried?”

_Your mother, for one,_ the tactician thought, but wasn’t about to say that aloud. Judging by the expression Chrom held, he was thinking the same thing.

_ And...that I haven’t ever told Chrom how I felt about him. _

“What?” the princess asked, looking between them. “I can’t read your minds.”

Thank gods for that.

“Some of the Shepherds have died along the journey in the other resets,” Robin covered, it technically being true. Not a pretty truth, but prettier than ‘your mother has been a bunch of different people and it hardly changes anything about you.’ “But the first reset we actually made it to Grima, no one died then. I sacrificed myself, but…”

“You haven’t made it through a reset where you held onto everyone while Father sealed away Grima.”

He hung his head and nodded. That was another thing he was afraid of—the inevitable fight between he and his dearest friend on who took the responsibility of dealing with Grima. Robin loved Chrom with his entire being, but he _couldn’t_ give up the final blow.

“Loathe as I am to say it, that appears most likely to be the way out with a good ending,” Lucina admitted.

Chrom’s eyes darted to her heated with anger, so fast that only Robin caught it. Despite that she was technically agreeing with him, it obviously offended him that she implied ideally Robin would be sacrificing himself. It shouldn’t have been surprising, really—she’d threatened to kill him for the greater good before.

Robin doubted it was the true way to end the resets, as people had died before without his life starting over, but it was more convenient for the two members of the Exalted bloodline to believe he wasn’t truly wondering about becoming Grima.

“It’s as good of a shot as any,” the tactician said, hoping at the very least it quelled Chrom’s temper a bit. “If not, we can always try again.”

“And father?” Lucina prompted, which he took as a sign that she believed Robin agreed. “What do you think?”

“We’ll try it,” the Exalt nodded, but there was a well-hidden edge in his voice. _Had it really bothered him that much?_ “I think it’s about time for sleep then. Do you mind if I speak to Robin alone?”

The princess blinked, then her cheeks became slightly red. She stood up from the cot and quickly shuffled out.

_ Does she think we were going to—no, she didn’t actually. Right? _

Chrom waited to hear her footsteps retreating from the tent, before turning to Robin and letting out a long exhale.

He took his friend’s hand.

“She didn’t mean anything by it,” the tactician said softly, referring to Lucina wishing he could land the final blow instead of Chrom. “She only doesn’t want anyone to go through what she had to, even if it’s long after she’s dead.”

“I know,” the Exalt sighed, looking down and turning his palm to curl his finger’s around Robin’s. “It’s not just that, though.”

He waited silently for Chrom to continue.

“The thing is... I’ve known you too long Robin. I know you don’t believe in Lucina’s solution for a second.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but his friend shook his head.

“...Are my thoughts really so obvious to you?” he opted for instead.

“Perhaps not always,” Chrom admitted, lifting his gaze to Robin’s. “But on things like this... well, you told me you wouldn’t kill Grima multiple times, and yet...”

He frowned, guilt squeezing at his heart. And despite that, it provided him an opportunity that he couldn’t ignore.

“I still haven’t properly apologized for that. I’m sorry, but I have to avoid what could happen in a thousand years if Grima is revived again. I can’t take any chances.”

“Do you still plan on sacrificing yourself, despite what we’ve told Lucina?”

If Chrom believed that was all that was on Robin’s mind, it’d be much easier to keep him in the dark on what he thought might be the real solution to the resets.

It was cruel, crueler than lying about the final blow multiple times, crueler than giving both Chrom and Lucina a false sense of security, he knew that. He’d speak with Tiki before making his final decision on accepting Grima. Then, _maybe_ he’d tell Chrom.

“I can’t not,” Robin replied sadly.

Chrom held his hand tightly, before snaking his arms around Robin’s waist. The tactician hugged him back, his hands looped beneath the Exalt’s arms and caressing his shoulder blades. He turned his face to the side, resting his head against Chrom’s chest. His friend’s heartbeat was slow and steady against his ear, lulling Robin into a sense of being protected. Chrom tilted his head down, his chin lightly brushing against his hair.

“Then you’ll understand when I say I can’t let you, either,” he whispered lowly, sending a shiver down Robin’s spine.

“I do.”

Morgan took the news of the resets much better than Lucina did, likely due to any of her own past trauma being forgotten. She asked questions about the other variations of herself and the rest of the Shepherds, seemingly treating it like a game more than the true lives Robin and Chrom had lived. After Chrom and Lucina had left Morgan’s tent, Robin remained to speak with her alone.

“Believe me, Dad, I realize how bad it is,” Morgan said, taking on a more a serious tone. “But you have to admit it _is_ kind of cool. You’re like a time traveler, too! It’s also a relief, because you actually somewhat _remember_ me this time around.”

“Well, at least you know how to look at the bright side of things,” Robin chuckled.

“So Dad,” she prompted. “You said you didn’t know who my mom was, and that you helped raise Lucina, since she’s only got Chrom.”

“That’s correct...”  What was she getting at?

“Does that mean she’s like my sister?”

His face flushed, and while he didn’t want to go any further with that conversation with his daughter, she did have a point.

“That’s a question to _delicately_ pose for Lucina.”

“Then what is it that’s between you and Chrom?”

Robin blushed harder, and her dark gray eyes gleamed with amusement. He really, _really_ didn’t want to get into this with her.

“I know you mean well, but that’s Chrom and I’s business, not yours.”

“It seems obvious to me,” Morgan went on, ignoring him. “When you and—er, my _father_ and I were traveling, he always told me he was looking for something when I asked. But the way he talked about it, it was pretty clear that he was looking for _someone_ , rather. I always thought it was my mom, but Chrom would make _way_ more sense.” Her light demeanor dropped and she frowned. “That is, assuming he was also killed in my timeline, or that you became... _y’know_ , and he stayed away.”

The admission embarrassed him, but the tactician understood what she meant. He crouched slightly to be at eye-level with her (which admittedly wasn’t far, she wasn’t that much shorter than him), and brushed some of the black hair from her face. He then cupped her cheek in his hand soothingly, rubbing his thumb in circles.

“That won’t happen again. I won’t let it,” he told her, ignoring the guilt that gnawed at him. “We’ve beaten Grima before. Hopefully this will be the last time we have to reset.”

She offered a weak smile and nodded a little, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her coat.

“Yeah, I know. Dad, though... I just think you should tell Chrom how you feel. You’ll always be together no matter what. You guys have something special; even if he didn’t feel the same, it sounds like he’d never push you away for that.”

Robin let out a sound of amusement and shook his head. “Let me worry about that. You’ve had a long day; you should get some rest.”

Morgan gave a knowing grin, some of her previous mischievousness returning. “I know you’re just dodging the conversation, but it’s okay. I love you, Dad.”

“I love you, too, Morgan.”

His stomach churned uncomfortably as he left his daughter’s tent, the thought he may have to truly become Grima lurking in the back of his mind. Was it fair of him to try and save the people around him from the discomfort of his thoughts? Probably not, but he had to believe it was better for everyone else if he did.

A week had passed since the Shepherds found Morgan in the Ruins of Time. They had finished dealing with Cervantes’s army and speaking to Tiki with the Shepherds as they always did. This time, however, Robin and Chrom asked to talk to her afterwards privately. The Shepherds—including Lucina and Morgan—cleared out, back to the roots of the Mila Tree.

Dusk was approaching, as the sun began sinking in the sky, hovering over the horizon. The sky was a mixture of reds, pinks, and oranges, with the undersides of the clouds taking on blue and violet. From the top of the Mila Tree, especially on the altar’s dais that sat in the middle of it all, Robin felt that if he reached out, he’d be touching those clouds.

Once alone, the manakete seemed much more alert than she had been previously, regaining some of the mystical presence that was lost when she was drowsy and dazed.

“You wish to speak about the repeats of your lives, yes?” she said, sitting down in the vegetation and crossing her legs.

With that, Robin and Chrom settled onto their knees, and the tactician recounted the past twenty or so years of life that he experienced, using as much detail as possible to give Tiki the entire picture. Every once in awhile, Chrom would provide his own recollection, but otherwise, the tactician was the main narrator. Of course, he left out his thoughts about needing to become Grima—he’d save that for after Chrom left.

Once he had finished, Tiki hummed thoughtfully.

“I think...” she mumbled, shutting her eyes and smiling to herself. “I think you haven’t found the right ending.”

Robin’s stomach flipped over, and he shared an anxious look with Chrom. They had already come to that conclusion, but Lucina’s proposed ending was at least more comfortable to pretend to believe in.

“Does it even matter who deals the final blow?” Chrom asked.

“Mmm... No,” the dragon opened her eyes, that odd little smile still on her face. “That part doesn’t matter, not really. You and Robin can still end Grima in whichever way you choose, by seal or by sacrifice, respectively.”

_So she’s saying that we still are supposed to end Grima, right?_ Robin wondered, hope sparking in his chest. He’d need more confirmation first, though, before he indulged himself in such hope.

“Then what do you think the answer is, Ti—Lady Tiki?” Chrom asked, cutting into the tactician’s thoughts. “It seems like whenever we do something wrong, our lives start over and begin from me finding Robin. Wouldn’t that suggest we’ve been arriving at the incorrect ending?”

“I believe that it rather means the key must be something that can change up until Grima is slain,” Tiki explained. She reached forward and took one of each men’s hands. “What keeps your army intact and Robin from succumbing to the Fell Dragon is your bonds. The ties you share are powerful, yet are still fickle in their own right. They can crumble or fortify until the very last second, the moment despair is ended.” Her grin widened and her eyes shined. “Robin, Chrom. I urge you to be honest with yourselves, and with one another. It mustn’t happen right this second, but consider what you two share before you face Grima in your final battle. I can promise that there’s more to each other than you might think, even after twenty years together. The answer you arrive at will set you both free.”

_Something that can change up until the moment Grima is slain... Couldn’t that still be me accepting Grima’s influence?_ Robin thought. _But, if the answer is in our bonds, like she said..._

He felt his heartbeat in his entire body at that prospect, along with something fluttery in his chest. He looked at Chrom, who looked back, the Exalt’s mouth slightly open and his eyes curious. A silent question hung in the air between them, but before it could begin to be asked—let alone answered—Tiki let out a large yawn, effectively breaking their spell, to Robin’s disappointment.

“Chrom... would you mind going ahead for a moment?” he said, a little apologetically. “There’s something I still need to ask Lady Tiki.”

The Exalt nodded and left. Feeling he was safely out of earshot, Tiki asked, “What can I do for you Robin?” Mischievousness crept into her tone. “Was I not clear enough about your relationship?”

Heat filled Robin’s face.

“N-no, you were plenty clear,” he affirmed. He took a moment to regain himself, before continuing, “I just wanted to ask about what you said, in that the change we need to make must be something that’s still able to be changed up until Grima’s slain. Well, my theory was that... well perhaps Grima’s causing the resets and maybe the true ending is...”

Robin took a breath, his hands shaking in his lap.

“...What if I need to... become Grima?”

Tiki’s face was sympathetic.

“It’s true, that may be a possibility.”

He almost wretched with how stressed he was.

“However,” the manakete interrupted before his thoughts could go further down that awful path, “Your bonds have seen you through everything, even all of these lives. Wouldn’t you agree that this would be a much better option to try first?”

Robin nodded numbly. Gods, was he really so scared of admitting his feelings to Chrom, that becoming Grima almost felt like the _easier_ option?

“I think it could bring you closer to Chrom to share your fears alongside your hopes. You’ll feel much better if you do.”

“I know, but...”

Tiki smiled brightly at him.

“Love is a powerful thing, Robin. Don’t underestimate it’s strength.”

The tactician exhaled. He owed it to everyone, Chrom, Morgan, Lucina, and himself, to try Tiki’s way first.

“Okay. I’ll try.”

It was quite a ways down the staircase carved into the Mila Tree before Robin and Chrom would be able to rejoin the Shepherds. For a long while, they walked in silence, watching the sunset and the sky morph into evening purples.

Robin held his hands in his pockets, glancing over to Chrom every so often. Their eyes would meet, they’d share a small smile with the other, then look away, before the cycle repeated.

The tactician wondered what Tiki’s words meant to his friend, knowing for a fact they were directed at the both of them. Robin knew what she was trying to tell him personally, but Chrom? He had no clue. He wasn’t about to voice the question aloud either—since the Exalt hadn’t already, that meant he wasn’t going to talk about it—openly, at least, or at this moment.

To Robin, Tiki’s words meant he had to do the one thing he became comfortable with never doing: confess his love to his best friend. Sure, it would be nice to come out about his feelings and yes, it’d be a dream if Chrom reciprocated. But that was just it: a _dream_. Nothing that held any weight or that was ever supposed to be real.

Until now.

Loving Chrom and lying about it was hard. But it was easy to remain inside of his comfort zone, to carry on as he always had. It was easy to wonder if Chrom felt anything back, and to risk nothing by keeping quiet. It was easy to not put his relationship with Chrom on the line.

Perhaps Tiki’s words to Chrom meant that when Robin confessed, the Exalt was supposed to forgive the tactician and let him down easy, rather than allowing their friendship to be ruined.

Yes, that must’ve been it.

“Robin, I—”

Chrom was cut off by Lissa’s exaggerated groan.

“ _Uuuggghhh_ , finally! We were nearly ready to walk all the way back up there! And by _we_ , I mean _not me_.”

Robin sent a sympathetic look Chrom’s way, who let out a sigh. The tactician was a bit disappointed himself, having wanted to hear what his friend had to say. He patted Chrom’s shoulder as if to tell him, ‘Another time.’

“So what did Tiki tell you?” Lissa asked.

Robin shook his head. “Just some details and history on the Awakening.”

“That’s _it?_ ” the princess tilted her head to the side. “Why did you need us to leave for that?”

“I think everyone being up there overwhelmed her,” Chrom said smoothly. If Robin didn’t know the truth, he might’ve believed him with how honest he sounded. “She was a little more focused when you all left.”

The Shepherds shifted gears to planning to setup camp for the night. Before Chrom could split off and find Lucina, the tactician turned to him.

“If you want to speak with me later, I’ll be awake awhile yet,” Robin said. “Just let me know.”

The Exalt nodded distractedly, not quite looking him in the eye. As much as he would’ve liked to, Robin didn’t prod, and allowed Chrom the time with his daughter.

“Dad!”

As he turned around, Morgan was already waiting for him. She lowered her voice and questioned, “What’d Tiki _actually_ say?”

“Well, I think I know how to end the resets.”

Her face lit up.

“That’s awesome!”

But when her father didn’t react as happily as she did, she backtracked.

“Or... not?”

“It’s just... something I would’ve liked avoiding.”

“Is it that Chrom gets to seal Grima?”

_ No, it’s worse. _

“Yes.”

Hopefully Chrom would tell Lucina the same thing to avoid conflicting stories.

Morgan put a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry Dad, but I can’t say I’m too upset. It’s... a blessing in it’s own way, that you’ll get to stick around. And people are so strong... our descendants a thousand years from now will be alright.”

If Chrom truly meant to try and stop Robin from sacrificing himself, like he promised the night they told Lucina of the resets, then he hoped his daughter was right.

War with Valm came and went, taking around a year in total. The whole time, Robin thought about confessing to Chrom, he _really_ did, but he still had his duties as tactician and Chrom still had his duties as Exalt. Revealing his feelings was to be a messy affair, and in the middle of surviving by the skin of their teeth was not the time to fess up.

The break between the Valmese campaign and marching to Plegia to retrieve Sable didn’t work for Robin either. He didn’t want to stomp on the short amount of time Chrom had with his infant daughter before they had to inevitably travel and fight again.

Then there was all the drama of losing the Fire Emblem, killing Validar, nearly killing Chrom (gods, Robin especially hated that part), Grima being revived, retrieving the Fire Emblem, and performing the Awakening (gods, Robin especially hated that part, too). On the bright side, he got to share dozens of hugs and softer moments with Chrom, as well as that Lucina never threatened to kill him.

It wasn’t until there was one day left before the face-off with Grima that Robin decided he had stalled enough (Tiki might have had a say in that decision).

Most of the day had been spent relaxing for all of the Shepherds, in an attempt to loosen up nerves and to keep morale at the very least above everyone’s breaking points. Robin and Chrom ate breakfast with their daughters, then lunch alone, and dinner was something of a party.

The Shepherds were gathered around a campfire, eating and drinking and singing and dancing.

Chrom sat next to him in the grass and leaned closer to Robin’s ear.

“I’m surprised you’re drinking.”

The tactician didn’t typically drink much, due to how he didn’t always care for the way it made his head swim, but he drank a bit anyway, just enough for a buzz. He figured he’d need the help of liquid courage if he was going to get his feelings out. Tonight would have to be the night to do it.

“I’m surprised you’re not,” he replied.

Chrom usually was drinking people under the table at these kinds of events—well, all except Sully and Gregor. And honestly, the Exalt was adorable when drunk. He was even more outspoken and very bubbly, and Robin loved the perpetual blush that would don his cheeks. The few times the tactician would get particularly drunk was only because he was spending time with Chrom.

“I wanted to mostly keep my head on tonight,” the Exalt said. “I also wanted to ask you if you’d join me in my tent.”

“Right now?”

“Yes.”

“Naga, Chrom, at _least_ take me to dinner first.”

His friend paused before blushing, his face scrunching up at Robin’s crude joke that he would’ve never said if entirely sober.

“Gods, you’re like Gaius,” Chrom chuckled, shaking his head. He stood up and offered his hand, a teasing glint in his eye.

“C’mon. Or did you need me to carry you?”

“If you’re offering,” Robin said, earning him a light swat on the shoulder. He accepted the Exalt’s help in standing up, but he wasn’t so far gone that he needed any further help walking.

Robin braced himself as the two entered Chrom’s tent, and after securing the entrance shut, sat on his cot together.

“Robin...”

Chrom took a deep breath. His nervousness was obvious, as his gaze was everywhere else but Robin’s eyes, and one of his hands scratched the back of his neck.

“Look... there’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time now.”

This piqued his attention. Did Tiki have anything to do with that?

“Me too,” Robin admitted. “It might be better I go first.”

“Ah, alright. Go ahead.”

The tactician nodded, looking down and clasping his hands in his lap.

“I’ve been thinking about it from when we told Lucina the truth about the resets, and it’s worried me ever since. I wasn’t sure what to do, and I didn’t say anything because... I didn’t want to hurt you, especially when I told you I was still going to try for the final blow on Grima. What I was thinking was that... I might have to become Grima to end the resets.”

He glanced up to gauge Chrom’s reaction. The Exalt’s eyes were widened and his eyebrows were raised. He opened his mouth to respond, but Robin looked away as he continued, not ready to be shamed yet.

“I know it’s awful. I _know_ ,” his throat tightening as he spoke, “But after asking Tiki about it, I decided it’d be better to try her way first with the... bonds. And, I think now that even if it _had_ been the way out, I’d live through the resets for the rest of eternity before I’d give up like that. So... I’m sorry.”

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, and he couldn’t will himself to see Chrom’s likely horrified or angry or worse, disappointed expression.

What he didn’t expect was getting pulled immediately into a hug.

Gods, the alcohol certainly wasn’t helping him reign in his emotions. Robin exhaled shakily before turning and reciprocating, feeling small and vulnerable. He hid his face against Chrom’s shoulder, breathing heavily and willing his tears away.

He didn’t deserve to be here, comforted in the security that was Chrom’s arms. It was only here that his resolve to sacrifice himself cracked and broke his heart.

Twenty years had been spent with one another, but it wasn’t enough. No, when Robin was honest with himself, a lot of it absolutely _sucked_. They only learned they each held the memories of their past lives a few years ago, and the entire time, Robin didn’t have the guts to confess his love. If he admitted his feelings and Chrom denied him, then sure, he could live with being platonic, but without having ventured to that point, Robin hated being friends. He wanted more, so much more.

Gods, he wanted to spill everything, he really did. Robin wanted to tell Chrom how much he loved him. How being together, especially on nights like these, meant more than anything to him. How he longed to be selfish and allow Grima to be sealed rather than slain. How no matter how many times he had told Chrom his life was worth more than his own, that he didn’t want to die and lose him.

“ _I—_ ” Robin looked up from his friend’s shoulder, lips outpacing his thoughts. Chrom’s beautiful blue eyes were on him in an instant, tender and warm and good and—

“It’s alright,” the Exalt said softly, reaching for the tactician’s face and cupping his cheek.

Robin inhaled sharply, fresh tears flooding his eyes. Emotion squeezed his chest. _I don’t want to lose you._

“Robin,” Chrom prompted gently, “Talk to me.”

Pure pain burst in him, making his head throb and his heart bleed. Robin didn’t want to die. He wanted to see Chrom again, he wanted to hear Chrom laugh again, he wanted to feel Chrom holding him again. He didn’t want to have to say goodbye tomorrow.

Robin screwed his eyes shut as more tears came. His friend’s arms wound more tightly around him, and Robin dropped his head, releasing a loud sob into his shoulder. Chrom didn’t say anything, instead rubbing a hand in soothing circles on the tactician’s back. He simply allowed Robin to bawl his eyes out, and whispered soft encouragements against his ear. Chrom had never punished him for being vulnerable, and the sweet thought made Robin cry harder. How could he ever think about becoming Grima? How could he ever think about smashing Chrom’s spirit to pieces?

The only other time the tactician had felt anything like this was the second reset, when Robin had actually made it to Grima and thought sacrificing himself would be the end, not realizing he would be repeating his life for nearly two decades. The other times had been hard, but there had always been the chance he was coming back. This time, though, was bound to be the last time. This would be his last peaceful day with Chrom, the last day he could pretend that everything would be fine.

“I d-don’t want to— _die_ ,” Robin choked out. “I—don’t want t-to leave you.”

“I know. It’s alright,” Chrom murmured, the vibration of his low tone soothing.

“You know w-why I do it, r-right? Why I—kill G-Grima?”

“...Yeah. I do.”

“I know I’m h-hurting you—but I have t-to do this.”

“You can choose tomorrow,” his friend said. “Whatever that choice is, I won’t stop you.”

Robin sniffled, letting out a weak, broken laugh.

“Even if I want to kill him? You won’t try to act first?”

“...Even so. I only want what you want.”

He breathed out, the noise teetering on a whimper. As Robin came down from the high of his emotions, he slowly withdrew from Chrom to gather himself, scrubbing at the water in his eyes. Thankfully, his buzz had faded as well, making his thoughts and actions easier to control. 

Eventually, after a few minutes of silence, Robin said, “I’m sorry... I know you had something you wanted to tell me... I just had to get that out.”

Chrom shook his head, his eyes soft and glassy themselves.

“No, it’s alright. I’ll always do anything and everything I can for you.”

The Exalt slid a hand into the tactician’s, watching as they laced together. It was so natural...

Robin had to tell him. The other thing that’d prevent a reset after defeating Grima. But before he could, Chrom spoke again, his voice just above a whisper.

“You remember how Tiki said we had to open up to one another... and make sure our bonds were strong enough before we killed Grima?”

Robin nodded. He hadn’t confessed yet, but were his feelings really so clear that Chrom was just going to let him down easy before he admitted them?

“Well, I...”

He braced himself to be rejected. Robin looked at Chrom, who closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. When he opened them, he trained them on Robin’s, so intensely that the tactician found himself holding his breath.

“Robin... I’m in love with you. I have been since the day I met you.”

The air was utterly still between them, the only sounds being the muted laughter of the Shepherds outside, and the crickets chirping through the night. Robin’s brain short-circuited, and he almost wanted to ask Chrom to repeat himself.

“I know... I know I’ve been married to several different people before I knew you were also aware of the loops, and if I could, I’d take it all back. I don’t know if you remember, but I truly meant it when I said I hadn’t loved any of them. Not the way I love you.”

“Chrom...” Robin whispered, squeezing his hand.

“Not telling you earlier is one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made, and for that, I truly, sincerely apologize. From the bottom of my heart. And even if you don’t feel the same way, I hope we can still be friends despite that. I can’t possibly bear the thought of losing you. So _please—_ ”

Robin had cupped his hand against Chrom’s cheek, effectively silencing the Exalt. He guided his face down to his, pressing their noses together. He looked into Chrom’s eyes for a moment, finding them fully absorbed in his.

The thump of his heart reverberated through his body, still unbelieving he was about to do this. Robin then tilted Chrom’s chin down, lightly touched his lips to the other man’s, before deepening it into something more. He held Chrom as he kissed him, attempting to convey how long he had felt the same way about him, through that special, heartfelt contact. Fireworks were going off in his chest, joy bubbling throughout his body. It was only the lightheaded giddiness that made him finally pull away from Chrom, breathing hard and allowing his eyes to be swallowed by the other man’s magnificent blue ones. He never wanted to let him out of his sight.

“I love you too.”

Chrom’s face was a beautiful shade of red, Robin’s likely in a similar state.

“H-how long...?”

“Since we first met.”

Chrom blinked, a smile spreading across his features. “Truly?”

Robin nodded, unable to hold his own grin back. “Truly.”

“We... we really are the worst, aren’t we?”

“Yes, we really are.”

“Honestly, I had tried to tell you earlier,” Chrom chuckled breathlessly. “Before I married Olivia, when you were injured by Gangrel, and when we were walking down the steps of the Mila tree.” 

Robin blanked. 

“Wait, that was...?” 

The Exalt nodded. The tactician dropped his head into his hands, feebly attempting to stop the heat that filled his face. 

“Oh gods...” 

Chrom pressed a kiss into his hair and laughed. 

Robin spent the night with Chrom, determined not to lose out on a single one of their precious moments left before Grima.

In the morning, he quietly told Morgan and Lucina goodbye, and by dusk, he had finished off the Fell Dragon. For good this time.

Tears streamed down Chrom’s face as Robin’s body gave away.

This wasn’t goodbye—he had to believe that for both of their sakes.

“May we meet again in a better life. I love you.”

* * *

“...We have to do something.”

Robin’s eyes opened slightly, immediately finding the light that swallowed his vision was too much to bear. He was utterly disoriented, unsure of what was going on.

“Well, what do you propose we _do?_ ”

Wait—he’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Uh... I don’t know!”

He could finally see now, finding himself staring up at Lissa and Chrom standing over him.

Oceanic eyes, a radiant smile, and a solar halo.

Robin internally panicked—they... _failed?_ How, though? Tiki had told them—

“I see you’re awake now,” Chrom said.

“Hey there,” Lissa murmured.

But no, this time was different. There were tears in both Chrom’s and Lissa’s eyes. There were also wrinkles on his friend’s face he hadn’t seen before, as well as bags under his eyes. His hair was longer, too, and a small scar nicked his jaw. His sister’s expression wasn’t much different than usual, but she held a wiser, matured air about her. Her hair was longer like her brother's, tied in a singular, curly ponytail behind her head.

Was he in an alternate timeline? Or had they truly succeeded? Most importantly, did Chrom still remember him?

“There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know. Give me your hand.”

Robin lifted his hand to Chrom’s, everything clicking the moment he saw the back of it.

Unblemished tan skin resided there, clear, as if the blood he shared with Grima had never existed.

He overlapped his hand with the Exalt’s. Fingers wrapped around his palm, squeezing tightly as if holding on for dear life. Chrom hoisted him off the grass, Robin letting out a surprised, “ _Whoa—!_ ” as he was lifted into the air. Neither of them had been expecting the force of it, and both men lost their balance. They fell back to the ground, with Robin ending up on top of Chrom.

They blinked at one another for a heartbeat before simultaneously erupting with laughter, and Lissa tried to contain her own snickers in the background. Once they each came down from their fits, Chrom’s hand snaked around Robin’s waist and secured itself against the small of his back, while his other hand gently cupped his jaw.

Robin leaned forward, letting his eyes slip shut as he angled his head to the side and captured the Exalt’s lips with his. Their kiss was tender, prolonged with a hint of passion, love and relief warming Robin’s body more than the Ylissean sun on his back.

The tears in Chrom’s eyes had finally spilled over when their lips eventually released. Robin’s heart bubbled with joy, eternally grateful to see the love of his life again. When Chrom spoke, it was raspy, his voice thick with emotion.

“Welcome back. It’s over now.”

**Author's Note:**

> my favorite part of this fic is when tiki says "i diagnose you with gay"
> 
> kudos and comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading!


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